"The privilege of children, you know what that is, boy?"
The rabbit's voice echoed in my ears.
At that moment, two emotions sprouted within me.
One was an eerie sense of fear mixed with the question of when this thing had started targeting us.
The other was a strange sense of relief. Relief that it had chosen to target us.
"Itsuki!"
I felt Nina-chan's hand reach out and grab my left hand, her soft touch cutting through the tension.
But before I could fully acknowledge that sensation, I had already started weaving Silveit threads. As I continued weaving, I fixed my eyes on the rabbit outside the window.
"Don't be scared, children," it said, shrugging its shoulders while clinging to the slowly rising Ferris wheel car.
"I'm here to help you."
"...Help us?"
"That's right. Children are meant to dream. And those dreams are so fragile and beautiful."
My brow furrowed instinctively at the rabbit's words, even as my hands continued their work.
I began weaving a cocoon of Silveit threads around the rabbit's body and infused it with the 'fire' element.
"Homuramayu."
At the same time as my incantation, the rabbit outside the window was engulfed in flames.
"But then I thought," it said calmly, as though the burning cocoon had no effect, "What if I could preserve those dreams?"
The roaring flames echoed inside the Ferris wheel car, but the rabbit's figure—supposedly engulfed in the fire—did not turn into black smoke. Instead, it remained intact, slowly extending a hand toward us.
"There's no need to be so surprised. This is just one dream," the rabbit added.
"A dream?" I repeated.
"Yes, a dream," it responded.
The rabbit, seemingly unconcerned by the flames, continued to speak as if this conversation was completely ordinary.
"Dreams will inevitably come to an end. But what if, before that happens, we could preserve them, cut them out from reality like a masterpiece of culture? Dreams are cultural treasures. And it is my duty to preserve them."
"...So that's why you've been kidnapping children?"
"Kidnapping? What a distasteful way to put it."
As the rabbit continued its philosophical ramblings, I continued weaving another spell.
"We're fine. I've got you," I replied softly, tightening my hold on her.
"D-don't let go of me!"
"I won't. I promise."
To Nina-chan, who couldn't see the Silveit threads I was using as lifelines, it must have seemed like we were just standing in thin air, with nothing preventing us from plummeting to our deaths.
Once I was sure she was reassured, I turned my attention back to the rabbit. The monster was floating above us, watching us from a distance, its shoulders sagging in apparent disappointment.
"How cruel, running away from my dream," it muttered.
"What part of this is a dream?" I shot back.
As soon as I spoke, the dark fog surrounding us began to dissipate. At the same time, I noticed that the Ferris wheel car we had been in had vanished.
"I wanted to create a world where children could keep dreaming forever... I wanted it so badly. And someone helped me make that world," the rabbit explained wistfully.
"...Someone helped you create this world?" I repeated, narrowing my eyes at the rabbit.
It nodded slowly.
"Yes. A world where children never wake from their dreams. And now, I'm inviting you to join them."
"Who helped you make it?" I asked, already suspecting the answer.
"The Theater Troupe Actor."
At the mention of that name, my jaw tightened reflexively.
"Where did you meet them?"
"I don't remember... It was so long ago. They're interested in children too, though. If you're curious, you could always stay here in the amusement park and wait for them," the rabbit suggested, its voice light but taunting.
"...I see," I replied, nodding.
That was all I needed to hear.
With a sharp clap of my hands, the rabbit's right arm—the one holding the balloon—vanished. I had suspected that regular magic wouldn't work on this monster, but I had hoped that fairy magic might be a different story. As it turned out, I was right.
"What...? No... I'm a dream," the rabbit protested weakly as more of its body began to disappear.
I wasn't sure why fairy magic worked when other types didn't, but if I had to guess, it had something to do with the fact that both fairies and dreams were tied to similar, ethereal concepts. Maybe it was just a matter of compatibility.
Whatever the reason, the rabbit's body was quickly unraveling. First its legs disappeared, then its head, followed by its torso. In the end, all that remained was the faint trace of black smoke.
As the last of the monster faded away, I finally exhaled in relief. The job was done. I glanced down at the ground far below us before lifting my gaze upward, toward the top of the Ferris wheel.
There, one of the gondolas was missing, a gaping hole marking where it used to be.
...Now what do we do?